


Unto Temptation

by Xiaolxn



Category: Xiaolin Showdown (Cartoon)
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Blood, Blood and Gore, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, I'll do some serious tags first, Medical, Minor Character Death, Okay that should be it I think, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Violence, this is a very mature piece for a kids show lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 10:39:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15727725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xiaolxn/pseuds/Xiaolxn
Summary: A piece I wrote a while ago to hash out the relationship between Liza Braus and Bishop Koval, including the first time they realise their relationship had become far more complicated than doctor and patient, and Liza’s darker side when it comes to her medical breakthroughs.This piece also features an imaginary figurehead made to be a parody of the current POS leading the United States right now, so if you’re not a fan of him (and if you are, get off of my profile,) then do enjoy this read, consider it a special treat. WINK WONK.This IS rated mature for a reason, the reason being you get a nice, warm, fluffy sex scene at the end, so make it through the terrible angst for your treat. Or just skip to the treat in the last chapter lol, enjoy!





	1. Braus on Call

_Am I a bad person?_

She’d asked herself this question many, many times since her medical credentials had been revoked. It cropped up in numerous situations, when an experiment failed or when a reminder of her past popped in for an unwelcome visit, or even sometimes without catalyst. Sometimes the thought would just pop into her head, and it would take fair distraction to avoid coming up with an answer.

_Am I a bad person?_

“Liza?”

She glanced up from her desk, having dozed off amongst stacks of paper. Her glasses had made two little dents in her nose, dents which began to wear away as she pushed the glasses aside to wipe the sleep from her eyes. She murmured a reply to the form in the doorway, replacing her glasses and pushing her chair out as she stood. Her shoes had slipped off at some point, scattered somewhere underneath her desk.

“We’ve received a letter for you.”

“Oh…thank you, Herr.”

She crossed the room, reaching out her hand. The master of this Temple, the one who had asked her to take up the position of medic and ward of the students who lived there…she had a blind spot with him. It wasn’t his fault, not at all; he was an elderly man with kind eyes and a disciplined nature, one who evidently put the well-being of his students above all else, but underneath all that, there was the inescapable fact that he was a figure of authority in this Temple.

Liza had a very well-reasoned dislike of authority figures.

He gently placed the envelope in her hand and she immediately frowned, holding it up to the light. It had become a force of habit; horror stories circulated the medical field about Doctors being assassinated due to breakthroughs they refused to keep silent about, usually only a day or so before they were set to reveal their big discoveries. That, coupled with reports so easily found on the internet, Liza had become rather paranoid whenever she was contacted by anyone from the old part of her life. She’d become accustomed to checking envelopes before opening them.

It was just her way.

“…Is anything wrong-?”

“No. No, not at all.” She lowered the envelope and gave him a small smile. “Please, if you wish, come in. If you would excuse the mess, that is.”

He smiled and nodded, and she stepped aside to let him into the room. She’d been granted it upon her move to the Temple, a large, open space for her to set up her own personal laboratory. It was nothing in comparison to her little home in Switzerland, the hotbed of medical innovation she had given up for this place, but it did its job well. She had the equipment she needed and the space she wanted, and her bedroom was just off to the left, so she was always close.

Always on call.

She picked up a little knife from her desk as the master sat down, watching as she sliced neatly through the fold of the envelope, already frowning.

“…Did this come through the usual channels?” she asked slowly, pulling the stamp off of the envelope. He nodded.

“It was collected from your old address,” he assured her, eyes flickering to the stamp. German. “I assure you it was brought here under the upmost discretion; we still honour your request to be, as you requested, _completely off the grid._ ”

She nodded and removed the contents, a single sheet of paper folded in half. She sighed immediately upon unfolding it, resting her hip against the windowsill as she did so. The curtains were almost always drawn, blinds always down, cutting off the sunlight from outside. Not so very good for her own health, mental and physical, but necessary for the longevity of her equipment.

She ran her thumb over the crease of the paper as she read, eyes skimming over the words slowly. She was almost unused to reading in her own language, having spent so long now deciphering ancient Chinese and Cantonese scrolls, comparing them to modern tomes scribed in English. It took her a lot longer than she would have liked to admit to struggle through half a page of writing, but when she made it to the bout of signatures and names at the bottom, she merely shook her head.

“I would like to say that Germany is unbelievable,” she said slowly, “but it’s honestly something I would expect of them.”

“Is it bad news?”

“No, no.” She took a deep breath. “Not at all. It’s merely a request- well. A demand, it’s marked down as an official hearing, for a meeting in Munich in four days. The entire German medical board, and it seems like they want a formal review of my nanomesh.”

“Do you intend to attend?”

“Not in the slightest.”

She swore she could have saw a smile on his face as she slid the paper back into the envelope, walking over to her desk and removing a lighter from the drawer. He didn’t make a sound of protest as she ignited it, holding the tip of the flame to the paper to let it lick up the sides and envelope it immediately with bright, amber sparks. She frowned as she held it between her forefinger and thumb, eventually dropping it into the bin by her side.

“I have a feeling you have dealt with requests like this before, yes?” he eventually asked, watching her face rather than the smouldering embers of the letter in the bin. She glanced at him, hesitating momentarily at the bright and cheerful tone of his voice. But then again, should she really expect anything else?

He was just trying to make her feel better.

She smiled and looked away, adjusting her glasses once more.

“Not personally,” she admitted. “But I’ve heard of others in the field who have been in situations similar to my own. Treatments which have been denied initially only to be recalled after a certain period of time. They won’t disclose _why_ , but it’s not hard to put two and two together in those instances.”

“And those instances are?”

“Someone important needs it,” she shrugged slowly, taking a seat in the chair by the window. She folded one leg over the other, letting out a long breath. “It’s usually done in secret, just a select number of council members on the payroll, with no lawyers or solicitors present in defence. They basically pull out a bunch of loopholes in laws that don’t exist to make you hand over your work, which they keep for a time to put through R&D, before returning it as a failure and force you back into obscurity.”

“I would imagine that is not the case,” he replied slowly. “In terms of labelling your creations as a failure?”

“You are not mistaken,” she smiled, resting her chin on the back of her hand. “They simply keep it long enough to replicate it for personal and private uses. In terms of the nanomesh, say…there was a car collision in the US, and someone was gravely injured. The nanomesh could heal them in a matter of moments, saving months and months of rehabilitation therapy and hundreds of thousands of dollars in medicinal care. The person would avoid years of pain and discomfort, but, most importantly…they will avoid decades of _debt_.” She sighed gently. “…Do you understand where I am going with this?”

“I’m very sad to say I do.”

“It’s not just America.” She tutted. “I always thought, during my years as a Doctor, that Europe was far more advanced. Universal healthcare is the norm, no one incurs crippling debt from simple accidents, and treatment is available to everyone. America’s healthcare system is a dark joke. But it turns out, that when it comes to this kind of stuff…we’re just as willing to look the other way if it means more money in our pockets. People will die, but it’s okay, as long as we can keep up payments on our fifth car.” She closed her eyes slowly. “I refuse to be a part of that kind of system. If my Asclepius technology is being called in for inspection, it is because someone rich and powerful and important needs it. I might have a check online later, see if some idiot President has had a heart attack or some member of the UK Parliament has had a head-on collision.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound in the air that of the ashes in the bin settling and smothering the flames. Liza removed her glasses and folded them up, slipping them into the pocket of her coat. She wiped her eyes slowly and let out a sigh, before glancing up at him. He was still smiling softly, watching her with those kind eyes. She couldn’t help but smile back.

“…Your thoughts?”

“You made a request of which I am very happy to honour, Doctor Braus,” he replied immediately. “You don’t want the world to know where you are and we’re happy to keep your presence quiet from all outside authorities. I think, in terms of the future…your decision to remain in isolation is perfectly reasonable and by far the most sensible route to take.”

“…And in terms of the here and now?”

“I think it’s a very personal matter.” He leant forwards slightly, the smile on his face faltering. “…You can chose to burn the paper and refuse to attend the meeting, as is your right; you can keep your technology from being abused by the rich and the powerful and the corrupt. But…no matter which way you look at it-”

“Someone out there is in trouble and needs my help,” she muttered, sitting back and folding her arms. He nodded slowly.

“…I have no right whatsoever to instruct you on what path to take…”

“No.” She sighed. “…When I became a surgeon, when I became a _Doctor_ , I took a vow to help whoever needed my help, no matter what. I’ve worked with people who have honoured that vow to levels I know I never personally could. I have seen…monsters rushed into hospitals on gurneys, monsters who honestly and truly wish for nothing but the genocide of entire races of people, and my colleagues who fit into the demographic of those genocides…run into the theatre and save their undeserving lives. I have operated on people who I know would be better off to the world if they didn’t survive the night, and I have only done so because I have had a braver, better person at my side telling me that it’s simply the _right thing to do._ ” She shook her head slowly. “I used to be so set on what was right and what was wrong, right up until they slandered my name. Now, it’s all…grey. There’s no black and no white. Everything is open to interpretation, even something as simple as life and death.”

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. For some reason, she was thirsty, having used her voice so much after sleeping just beforehand. She needed a good cup of tea, nice and strong, and a long walk in the fresh air.

“You’re faced with a hard decision, Liza.” She opened her eyes and looked back at him. He was always so calm, so measured, as though age had taught him nothing but patience. “I understand both of your options, and the choices you’re facing to reach a decision. Not just in terms of this meeting with the board; we both know you will not change your mind on attendance.”

“It’s best to let the world believe I’m dead.”

“And I agree. But in terms of this…issue. If you are so sure someone, somewhere, is in need of your help, might I suggest a happy medium?”

“I’d honestly kill for your advice right now.”

“It needn’t come to that.” His smile returned. “If you are certain someone is suffering and you can help, then you can do so without offering up your technology.” He stood slowly and she raised an eyebrow, but then mirrored his actions. He led her to the door and out of the laboratory, and they walked, side-by-side, down the hallway and out into the gardens. It was a gloriously sunny day, the smell of grass in the air and the sound of the stream in the distance, punctuated by the occasional sound of a training monk.

They walked across the courtyard towards a large, cylindrical building, one that Liza had only entered a few times. It was empty, every inhabitant of the Temple outside to enjoy the weather whilst they could, save for her and the master. She watched as he reached out, brushing his fingers against several chimes on the wall, and then the ground began to rumble. She frowned, bracing one bare foot behind the other to keep her balance, before raising an eyebrow.

“Oh. So this is where you keep them.”

His smile remained as the tiles on the floor began to slide down, forming a single, circular staircase which descended into the lower levels of the building, vanishing into a darkness which was suddenly illuminated with candle light.

“Yes. Every single one of the Shen Gong Wu that the young monks retrieve are stored beneath this building,” he smiled, leading her down the steps. He pulled a torch from its bracket on the wall, leading her down into the cold and the dark, save for the little bubble of flame that came from the torch he held. “This is one of the most secure vaults in the world; one way in, one way out, and no computers or technology to be hacked into.”

“A simple melody is security enough?”

“Indeed.”

She smiled at the simplicity and allowed him to lead her down, eventually stopping on the staircase. He turned and held his hand out, and she took the torch slowly, holding it up so he could see what he was doing. He turned to the wall and pressed his hand to the brick; a little symbol was carved into the surface, and when his fingertips applied enough pressure, the brick receded slightly before sliding out. It was hollow inside, a perfectly concealed storage unit, and from this unit he withdrew a thin sheet of material, a ghostly silver hemmed with thick black borders. Liza frowned.

“...They were in tatters when they came back from getting that,” she said slowly, her grip tightening on the torch as he pushed the brick back into place. “But then, I could probably say that about most of the things in this vault.”

“And now you know why we value your services as much as we do.” He turned to her, holding the cloth in both hands. “…The Shroud of Shadows. I’m sure you’re familiar with what it can do.”

“I am.”

“Then I would like you to take it. Just for now.” He watched as she slowly put the torch in the bracket by her side, taking the cloak from his hands when they were free to do so. “You have a choice, Liza. You can remain here and continue your work with the blessing of everyone in this Temple, and no one will think any different of you for doing so. Or you could leave this evening, Dojo will take you wherever you need to go. If someone needs saving, then go and save them without disclosing your work to those who would abuse it. You need only make one decision now.”

“…” Her fingers tightened gently in the cloak, holding it tightly to her chest. She let out a breath and looked at him, at this man who had given her everything she could have wanted in exchange for nothing but her help. She bit her lip. “I have to decide if someone who would do this is worth saving.”

“Yes.”

“…Can I have a hint?”

“Only if you ask your conscience.” He smiled and picked up the torch again, gesturing for her to go ahead. She let out a sigh, but then turned and began to climb the steps in silence, eyes on the cloak in her hands. She could enter any secure building in the world with this artefact and a little bit of patience, and she could do it in a night. There was minimal risk to her, after all…it was just as he had said; it was her choice on whether or not the person in question was worth saving.

_Am I a bad person?_

When she reached the top of the vault stairs, she sighed and tucked the cloak inside of her coat, turning to face him. He had replaced the torch in its original bracket and the vault automatically began to seal up after him. When the rumbling stopped, she could hear squeals and laughter coming from outside; the children were playing in the fountain outside the door. Sometimes she forgot that that was what they really were; children. Easy enough to forget with a task of such importance on their shoulders.

“The choice is yours, Liza.” She jerked slightly and looked at the master as he offered her that smile of his again, standing in the doorway. “We will do whatever it takes to help you with your decision, whatever that may be.”

She hesitated, remaining still for a moment. The cloak weighed almost nothing on the inside pocket of her lab coat, but just enough to remind her that it was there, and that it was begging to be used. She reached her hand inside and stroked the strange material slowly with the tip of her thumb, and let out a long breath.

“…Yes, master Fung,” she said softly, offering her own smile. It was small, and it was apparent that it was unsure of itself, but its presence was extremely comforting to herself. It remained on her face when he bowed to her, and it remained until he left her alone in the vault room. It only faltered when the silence crept in and she was alone, replaced by a frown only one other person in the world was familiar with. She walked over to a mat placed on the floor, intended for meditation, and took a seat. She folded her legs and sat there for a few minutes, and then removed her coat and placed it by her side. The tip of the cloak stuck out of the pocket, dark and highly noticeable against the white, and she forced her eyes away from it, taking a deep breath.

Just a few minutes, a few minutes of pure, clear, uninterrupted reasoning.

 _Damn that_ , she eventually thought. _I need Bishop._


	2. To Eve it Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liza and Bishop set out on their mission to the United States.

It didn’t take long for him to arrive. She knew he was currently somewhere in Scotland, apparently on the trail of “a beast that has claimed many lives over the centuries”. She hadn’t pressed any further than that, just merely mentioned that a particularly famous monster of the highlands was responsible for an awful lot of tourism revenue, and that without it, the country would lose a lot of money.

He’d told her it was a werewolf and she’d laughed so hard it had hurt her stomach.

Dojo had set off that afternoon and was visible over the mountain tops in the early hours of the evening, a single passenger seated upon his back. He landed in the courtyard and Liza walked out to greet them, clad in black without her glasses. She watched Bishop slide off of Dojo’s back as the dragon slumped against the floor, taking a few deep breaths to regain his composure. He deserved it, after all; he had a long night ahead of him.   
Bishop turned to the Doctor and walked over, a few fresh scratches on his knuckles but otherwise the same as she last saw him. She let out a breath, adjusting the bag on her back. Small, compact, storing only a bottle of water, the Shroud of Shadows, and, of course, the Asclepius Gauntlet. There wasn’t anything else needed.

“Braus.”

She bit her lip as he stood in front of her, his hand resting on the hilt of the cutlass that hung from his belt. She rarely saw him without this piece by his side, and part of her, the rational part, knew that there was something about it that couldn’t be found in other blades. At times like this, she liked to look back on her life, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when assuming something was magic became the first rational thought.

“…Thank you for coming,” she said softly in reply, her hands hanging by her sides. She took a breath. “…Dojo-”

“He told me you needed me,” he said simply. “That’s all I had to hear.”

“Thank you.”

She took a deep breath and folded her arms, eyes flickering back up to him. He held her gaze steady as always, only this time, he wasn’t doing it to humour her when she lectured him about keeping wounds clean. He was listening, and he was listening intently.

“…Something’s cropped up,” she murmured slowly. “My moral compass is definitely not pointing north, and…to be honest, I don’t even know if what I intend to do is the right thing to do. I’m still doubting my actions, but, for now, I’m set on my current course.”

“Tell me what you need me to do.”

“I need you as my backup,” she said slowly. “If anything goes wrong, I need your help, and I need you to stay with Dojo, he’s our only way out if anything happens. I know it’s not your usual thing, but…I need you to do this.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

She let out a long breath and bowed her head, nodding slowly. Her fingers bit into her biceps and she looked up at him, smiling softly.

“When was the last time you went to America?”

“About three years, now.” He frowned. “I’m not overly fond. Besides; anything that’d need disposing of out there has been driven away by the populace, lurking in caves in national parks. In terms of monsters, there aren’t many threats over there.”

She nodded slowly, swallowing down the urge to contradict him on that statement. It hadn’t taken long on her laptop to find the cause of the sudden invitation back to Germany; the President of the US had been in a traffic collision yesterday morning and had been taken into private care. All of the news articles and public statements had refused to release information on his current physical status, instead glancing over it with soothing words of reassurance. That was what had made her sure that this was the case which had issued a warrant for her revival; if he was in bad health and suddenly revived by the miracle of Asclepius, then the press would have a hard job explaining how this had happened. It was why the meeting was scheduled so close to the current date, after all; they were probably stabilising him, making sure he’d live long enough for Liza’s technology to save his life. She wondered who would be pocketing the cheque for this farce; a cut would probably go to a few members on the German board, but more than likely, the US would take the larger portion.

The thought of it made her sick.

“Braus. Come.”

She jerked out of this reverie and looked up at Bishop as he turned back to Dojo, walking over to him. She nodded slowly and followed, finally offering the dragon a small smile as she did so.

“Thank you for this, Dojo.”

He nodded slowly, still in the process of catching his breath.

“No problem-“ he inhaled sharply, “…Master Fung said it was important, so I’m ready to go whenever you are.” He paused. “…I don’t suppose you’d mind if we stopped for a moment in San Francisco, right? Only they do this soda there that you can’t get anywhere else and I would absolutely kill for one right now.”

“As long as we’re in Washington by 3am, you can stop wherever you want,” she smiled, resting her hand against his side reassuringly. He let out a groan of relief and slumped again the ground, placing his hands over his eyes.

“Thanks.”

She grinned and turned to Bishop, who immediately cupped his hands together. She placed her foot in his palms and he boosted her up to climb onto the dragons back, taking a little run up before jumping and hauling himself up behind her.

“Liza.”

“Yes?”

“Heels.”

She paused, but then looked back at him.

“…Did I tell you what to wear?”

“You sound like you’re going to be doing an awful lot of sneaking. Heels don’t scream stealth to me.”

“No. Walking on tiptoe screams stealth. What do heels force women to do?”

“…I can’t argue with that logic.”

She smiled as the surface beneath them rumbled slightly, and Dojo braced his claws against the floor. Her grip on his scales tightened as he suddenly launched into the air, making her gasp and bow her head as they cleared the cloud line within seconds. The change in pressure made her ears pop and she held her breath until it reversed itself, taking every step she knew to cope with the sudden altitude change. She could feel Bishop behind her, strong and reassuring, and eventually she began to relax, even risking a glance down at the world below them. Forests for now, but soon enough, mountains took their place, ravines and waterfalls visible through the thin layer of cloud beneath them. She was silent for the longest time, just watching the world pass underneath them, flickering from rural to urban, and suddenly there was ocean, stretching as far as she could see.

“Why didn’t you ask your students?”

She paused and looked behind her, blinking at him as he pushed his hair back. He didn’t seem bothered at all by the flight.

“…Pardon?”

“You have four monks in that Temple who are more suited to the task than I am,” he said slowly. “What you’re doing is more…thieving than hunting. They’re more   
adept, and you wouldn’t have had to wait for me to arrive from Scotland to begin. Why didn’t you ask them for help?”

“…You know why,” she muttered. “…No matter what I chose to do, I know that…it won’t affect how you see me.”

“Yes.”

“It might with them,” she mumbled. “They’re…children. I’m not the best with children, and I never have been. I don’t want their view on me changing if I make the wrong choice.” She sighed. “It’s hard to win back approval from people you never originally sought it from. The first time was quite by accident. I’d have no idea how to do it again.”

“You’re using me to escape judgement.”

“Does it bother you?”

She was surprised to see him smile, turning his head slightly so he didn’t meet her eye. Bishop rarely smiled, but when he did, she felt such a sense of security that she couldn’t help returning it, facing forward again and bowing her head to hide it.

“Now you know.” She sighed and shifted slightly, straightening her back with a groan. “…I forgot how uncomfortable this could be. My back will be ruined by the time we get there.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure out a way to fix it.”

* * *

They did indeed stop in San Francisco for Dojo’s benefit, allowing him to fill up on all manner of sodas and sugary snacks whilst they ate rather more sensibly. Liza had never been to the city before and happily sat on the bench as she ate her sandwich, eyes on the twinkling lights that passed over the bridge. Someday, hopefully, she could come back here, maybe for a day or so, with a clear conscience and unoccupied mind. She had dedicated her life to medicine in such a way that is was very easy for her to forget how to just…take a break and enjoy herself.

It had been years since she’d been on something as simple as a vacation.

They were in the air again by midnight, America passing underneath them like a fast-flowing river. Once or twice, she found herself dozing off against Bishop, and every time she jerked awake she realised he’d immediately held onto her to stop her from plummeting to the surface. Each time, she’d extracted herself with a muttered apology, taking a drink of water to wake herself up.

Soon enough, the darkness below was replaced with lights, and the sound of a city. Even at this time in the morning, Washington was still awake, the sounds of the young out enjoying themselves mixed with the flow of commuters in their cars. This mix of sounds immediately pushed Liza out of her state of exhaustion and she was wide awake, eyes scanning below her for their target. It was easy enough to find out where the President was being treated, (in hindsight, the internet could be a terrifying place,) and eventually she pointed to a large building surrounded with woodland and two large perimeter fences.

“Down there, Dojo.”

“I see it.”

They immediately began their descent, landing in the forest a few hundred meters from the first fence. Bishop and Liza dismounted as Dojo returned to his much more compact size, groaning in what they assumed was relief. Immediately, he slithered up Bishop’s leg and onto his shoulder, flopping over it and sliding into the inside pocket with a happy little groan. Bishop didn’t seem to mind. Or at least, the slight smile he gave betrayed him if he did.

“Look after him,” Liza said softly, pulling her bag off of her back and removing the gauntlet. “We’re still going to need a way out of here if I get caught.”

“You’re invisible, Liza. You’d have to be really bad if you were caught.”

She smiled as she pulled the gauntlet over her wrist. She fastened to clips and pressed her fingers to the cross on the surface; a few moments passed and it gave out a little beep, the cross lighting up, registering her hand print. She let out a breath as her fingertips began to burn, synchronising with the technology, and then the pain stopped and she wiggled her fingers gently to test out the mobility.

“All working,” she mumbled. “Hold out your hand.”

He frowned, but slowly did so. She took it gently, pressing her palm down against the little scrapes and cuts on his knuckles; he let out a breath as the wounds began to steam. She removed her palm seconds later to reveal fresh, clean skin, not a scar or blemish. She nodded slowly.

“I’m good to go.” She pulled the cloak out of her bag and turned back to him. “…Give me two hours to get it done. If I’m not back by then, then…go back w-”

“I’ll break in and find you.”

“Go back and get help. I don’t want to be detained in an American hospital. That’s the worst thing that could happen.” He nodded and she smiled, handing him her bag with a little sigh. She looked up at the fence on the other side of the treeline, at the barbed wire on top, and shook her head. “Dojo. Look after him.”  
Bishop frowned as the little dragon poked his head out of his jacket, raising his hand to his forehead in a salute.

“Yes, Doctor!”

“Hang about.” Bishop pushed his head back into his pocket and looked back at Liza. “I thought I was looking after him?”

“…Many hands, light work.” She blinked at him as she pulled the cloak round her shoulders, shrugging them slightly. “…Snap to.”

He smirked at that, bowing his head slightly.

“Yes ma’am.”

She gave him a small smile, and then pulled the hood over her head as she walked through the treeline; she glanced back to see him sitting down against a tree, already muttering to the dragon in his pocket. She forced herself to turn away, now approaching the fence at relative speed. She pulled the material tighter around herself, and took a deep breath. She’d seen these artefacts used a thousand and one times, she’d even got some of them under the microscope a few times, but more tests would need to be conducted to figure out what made them tick. For now, she’d have to believe only in what she’d seen, and what she’d seen was simple.

“Shroud of Shadows.”

She took a deep breath as everything around her turned slightly hazy, like she was looking at it through frosted glass. She stepped out of the treeline, glancing around her; there were guards around, guards with dogs and semi-automatics. Good God, how Liza detested guns. She walked right up to the fence, waving her hand; the guard simply turned and yawned, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. So relaxed, despite guarding the Commander in Chief of the United States.

She smiled.

Must be a democrat.

She walked past him and followed the fence around to a gate. There were more guards there, two with dogs; they looked up and whined as she simply stepped under the barrier, straightening up on the other side. She walked down the road as they began to bark, paying them no mind as the guards tried to calm them down, peering off into the forest to locate the intruder. She just carried on walking, her heels making delicate little tapping sounds against the concrete. The driveway was long, but otherwise unguarded; it took ten minutes of walking to reach the building at the centre of the compound, where she sighed at the sight of more armed guards. There were security vans, too, and one news van; she recognised the network.

Well, she thought to herself, I suppose there has to be coverage of him 24/7, whether or not he’s actually on camera.

She walked up the steps, keeping her weight on her toes to remain silent. The guards didn’t stir, just carried on talking and smoking. These dogs didn’t even flinch, just laid down and slept peacefully as she walked right past them, through the door which was wedged open with a brick and into the entrance hall of the private hospital. She let out a breath as she walked along the expensive tiles, looking left and right. So this was the kind of healthcare that absurd money could buy; everything was meticulously clean and expensive, the lampshades made of crystal and the ornaments clad in bronze. She walked past the welcome desk and paused to admire one of the lampshades, tilting it to the side slightly to read the labelling on the inside. Tiffany and Co. Figured.

She walked out of the main entrance and down a hallway, looking left and right. They’d keep the President on the ground floor for convenience, probably in an isolated ward. No one should have the same rights as him, after all. He’d have a private ward, definitely.

She took a right and paused at an open door, peeking her head in. Bedroom. She paused and arched onto her toes, getting a good view of the woman asleep in the bed. Pretty enough if not for all of the plastic surgery which had turned her nose up in an ungainly fashion, with lots of highlighted hair. She was resolutely unconscious, sleeping away happily as her husband fought for his life somewhere in the building, the absolute picture of a woman at peace. Liza almost smiled.

So much for a happy marriage.

She left the First Lady to her happy dreams of the fortune she’d inherit in the next few days, continuing down the hallway. She paused at the end, a small smile creeping over her lips. It was practically advertisement. Two guards sat there on uncomfortable plastic chairs found in any school in the country, each with a gun on their hip. They were an absolute parody, aiming the laser points of their guns at the floor in front of them, in silent hysterics as their loyal guard dogs pounced after the little red dot. Even Liza had to stifle a laugh at the size of such a vicious looking creature pouncing after a little red light, but then she took a deep breath and forced herself to remember why she was there.

Her eyes went to the double doors behind them, shut firmly. There would be a corridor behind them, with the private room right at the end. She rolled her shoulders slightly, closing her eyes. She could easily just barge through and crouch out of the way at the end of the hallway as the madness ensued, but there was always the chance that they would just double the security just in case. She sighed, but then just decided to go with the best strategy she knew how.  
She walked over to an end table with a pot on the top, a pretty violet trellis running down the side. She sighed, but then placed her finger under the table top and flipped it. The pot and table clattered to the floor with a beautiful smash, making the dog jump up and bark and the guards jerk upright, raising their guns. Liza immediately sidestepped, just in case one of them had an itchy trigger finger, walking around them as they walked over, one immediately stepping to the side and raising his gun. She walked right through the doors before they even glanced back, pulling off the cloak as she did so. There were no more guards, only one more door between her and her patient.

She still hadn’t made up her mind.

She opened the door and stepped into the room, letting out a long breath as she let it swing shut behind her. There he was, a man elected by the bigoted and the fearful, a man who had made his fortune on lies, slander, and bankruptcy claims. Liza personally despised all he stood for; she remembered the disdain she felt at the election results earlier that year, and all the ensuing violence that followed. He had emboldened those who believed themselves to be superior to others, and they had lashed out with bricks and guns and violence against people who were just trying to live their lives.

She didn’t like to use the word hate.

But, she supposed, in all honesty…she hated him.

“Quite a thing, ain’t it?”

She jerked slightly, stepping to the side and raising her hand. The gauntlet let out a gentle hum and began to glow with that eerie yellow light, her eyes narrowing. She could put cells and skin back together, it wasn’t hard to take them apart. She never intended to use Asclepius as a weapon, but in situations such as these, it wasn’t a bad option to have in the back pocket.

“Can’t hit someone you can’t see, sweet thing. Besides, you don’t know if you want to hit me yet.”

She frowned, taking a careful sidestep, her hand still raised. She looked around, but the only other person in the room was the elderly man in his hospital bed, full of tubes and pipes with his heartbeat ticking away on the monitor by his side. He looked pathetic. She grimaced.

“My my, ain’t that a face. Let’s have a talk, just you and me.”

“Where are you?” she hissed slowly, turning around again. She walked over to the curtains and parted them, only to find nothing. She frowned, pulling them closed again, then walked over to the door and peered through the glass in the top. She took a deep breath.

“Don’t you fret, Doctor. The next nurse’s round ain’t for another fifteen minutes. Funny, ain’t it? All the wealth in the world and you still can’t have 24 hour constant surveillance. I guess it’s lucky for people like us who just wanna sneak on into a room that ain’t ours.”

She grimaced, slowly lowering her hand, the gauntlet still glowing.

“Come on out,” she said carefully, her voice low. The President could be comatose all he wanted, she wouldn’t raise her voice above a whisper in in fear of alerting the guards. To be found right now would be a shoot-on-sight situation. She didn’t need a bullet in her chest.

“I am out, darlin’. You’re just not usin’ your eyes.”

She frowned and jumped as the lamp turned on, taking a few steps back.

She blinked.

“…You’re-”

“You were expectin’ someone bigger. But think about it, sugar; it’s a lot easier to slip into spaces you shouldn’t be when you’re this size. Easy to fit anywhere, too.” A smirk. “Like your top pocket, for instance. Thanks for the ride, I was hopin’ to get you away from that lumberin’ Neanderthal you brought with you.”  
Liza frowned, her hand immediately going to her chest and feeling along the pocket on her jacket.

“…You’re a kidney bean.”

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed.”

“No, I mean…you’re a kidney bean.” She frowned, the glow of the gauntlet dimming and then extinguishing. “Like…an actual kidney bean, I’ve had worse than you in a burger.” She folded her arms, fighting the urge to laugh. “You’re that thing that the lizard king has been so het up about? Really?”

“He’s mentioned me? Now that is sweet of him.”

Liza frowned as the little bean- he was a bean. He was actually a bloody bean – hopped off of the end table he…it, it had been perched on. Liza immediately took a step back as he cleared his throat before muttering something unintelligible, and then she took another three steps back as she pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle any noises she may have made.

He’d grown in size.

Exponentially in size.

She frowned and lowered her hand slowly, a frown on her lips. Why she was even surprised anymore, she had no clue. She was so used to Dojo changing from the size of a snake to the size of a boat in the blink of an eye, and had even seen the monks use one of their precious artefacts to shrink down to the size of a rice grain. It shouldn’t take her by surprise anymore, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t.

She’d never get used to it.

But this…thing before her…it wasn’t just ungainly. It was…ugly. An unsightly, misshapen, crimson lump, with crooked yellow teeth and a few strands of hair poking out of its liver-spotted head. Its eyes were a deep red with a watery yellow outline, and something about the way it held itself made her want to crawl up into a ball and cry.

This was evil.

Not the slick, cunning, sexy evil like Chase Young, not the evil she’d become accustomed to. This was malice, this was evil for the sake of evil, mischief and mayhem with nary a thought for anyone else. Immediately, Asclepius began to glow again, prepared to cause tissue damage to anything it touched, responding to the levels of adrenaline in its users system. Liza was afraid.

Liza was very afraid.

“Not what you expected, huh?” the thing drawled, smirking as she took another steady step back. Her heart was hammering; maybe it was best to turn tail and run. She wasn’t even sure if she wanted to do what she was here to do, after all. She wouldn’t face repercussions if she ran.

“What are you?”

He smirked again; it bled across his face like a seeping wound, making her feel queasy.

“That’s a story for another time, good Doctor. Right now, I’d be mighty obliged if you’d just call me Hannibal. But, under them circumstances, I’d be upstandin’ to just call you Liza. Is that okay with you, Liza?”

She frowned. No. No, it most certainly was not okay.

She remained silent.

“You see, Liza, I’ve been keepin’ up with your little dilemma ever since I delivered your letter from Germany.”

She tensed, eyes narrowing in a glare, fists clenching tightly.

“…It was you?”

“I can take any form I want, darlin’. It wasn’t hard to get hold of it in Munich and it wasn’t hard to just walk on into the Temple n’ deliver it. But that’s not what either of us are here for.” He didn’t have legs, just long, tentacle-like arms, tipped with a sickly yellow which braced against the floor to drag him along the surface. He took two of these “steps” forward, eyes on her. She raised her hand slowly, a warning, and he fell to a standstill. “Took a lot of guts to break in here, Liza. You ain’t no monk, you ain’t no kung-fu fightin’ genius like all your friends. You’re just an ex-surgeon with an ego and a deathwish. I admire that.”

“Admire it from a distance.”

“And all to heal…that.” He spoke like she’d never interrupted, gesturing at the man in the bed by the wall. Her eyes flickered to him, and immediately, she felt herself calm. She was unsure of practically everything in that moment but one thing, and that one thing was her hatred of that man. It was calming, to have something to hold on to. “You had a choice, and you chose to come here and help a man who you’ve proclaimed more often than not to hate.”

“And you’re here to make me fix him?” she frowned, fists clenching slowly. “…His words spread hate, bigotry, and fear. If you’re the root of all evil, I’m sure that’s what you want, right?”

“I hardly care whether this man lives or dies,” he replied with a shrug, making her frown. “He’ll go soon, anyway. He’s old and decrepit and under too much stress for his weak little human heart to handle. He’s never faced any kinda real responsibility before, and now he’s suddenly runnin’ a country? Nah, I’d give him maybe three years, max, should he walk away from this hospital.”

Liza let out a long breath and frowned, fingers slowly unclenching.

“…Then why are you here if you aren’t here to make me fix him?”

“What killed the cat, Liza? I’m here because I want to see what you’ll do.” He turned and moved towards the hospital bed, watching her all the while. His gaze made her skin crawl. “You’re at a crossroads. You came here to heal this man, even though you think he’s a pox on the world, because it’s the right thing to do. But you’re still pausin’, still hesitatin’. I want to see what you’ll choose.”

“Then you can leave,” she frowned, raising the gauntlet again. “I came all this way, I’m not going to leave now without doing what I came here for.”

“Then you best get on with it,” he smirked, watching her as she took a few uneasy steps towards the sleeping man. “Nurse’ll be here soon enough to check his vitals, and without your interference, there won’t be any.”

She frowned, immediately withdrawing her hand.

“…What do you mean?”

“Well, it wouldn’t’ve been no fun if there wasn’t a little interference on my part.” His leer made her shudder, gripping the bedpost to stay upright. She felt sick. “Let’s just say, you’re on a time limit. He’s an old man, after all. And it was a nasty collision. It really wouldn’t take much more to tip him over the edge.” His smirk widened.   
“I’m the much more.”

Liza let out a little hiss and hurried to the bedside properly, pulling the screens around, eyes scanning the readings hurriedly. Indeed, the vitals were plummeting. In fact, everything was plummeting. Everything from heart rate to blood pressure, slowly ticking down into dangerous levels. In the next few minutes, they’d get low enough to trigger an alert throughout the entire building. She didn’t have much time.

Then why wasn’t she already at work?

“No one would blame you.” She looked up at this Hannibal, this thing, and she frowned. He was watching her through those watery eyes, not flinching, not blinking. “Like you said before, he’s spread nothin’ but hate n’ bigotry through the most powerful country on the planet. It’s become a…breedin’ ground for evil; a guy like me could get used to it here. You know what’ll happen if you heal him up n’ set him loose again. He’ll probably ban all HGV drivers from the country n’ claim that they’re all tryin’ to assassinate him. He’s off his nut, completely insane. Even by my standards.” She swore she could have seen him shiver. “But you’ll do it anyway, because it’s what you know is right. Heal him up, and you’ve saved another life. All those meetin’s the medical board had about you, the withdrawal of your credentials…it’s just another time where you prove ‘em wrong n’ show yourself that you didn’t deserve none of the slander they put you through. You’re the better person by lettin’ him live.”

Liza grimaced, withdrawing her hand from over the man’s chest. The entire room was silent and strangely cold, her heartbeat ticking in her ears. Her mouth tasted like metal.

_Am I a bad person?_

“Or…and don’t take my word on it…you could just let him die.” He shrugged again, reaching up and flicking one of the monitors. The noise made her jump. “I’m sure the majority of the country’d thank you, after all. Because good ol’ President Robson here, we all know he lost the majority vote. He only took office because of the, what was it? Electoral somethin’. I’ve been locked up in that realm for a good long time now, the last time I saw America they were doin’ somethin’ criminal to a good cup o’ tea, I don’t understand what they’re up to now.” He let out a little hiss and turned back to her. “All those he’s radicalised will go crawlin’ back into their holes, the country’ll elect another leader, n’ it’ll all repeat itself again and again. Maybe next time that woman’ll get a shot at office.” He shuddered slightly. “I like her.”

  
Liza clenched her fist and pressed it to her forehead, a pained expression on her face. Her heart was still thudding loudly, so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She came all this way to fix a broken man, but…once he was fixed…this creature was right. His followers, the radicals he’d emboldened, they’d think he was invincible. He’d take to his podium again to rapturous cheers and salutes that were illegal in her home country, back where everything was moderately sane. But if she just let him die…democracy would start again.

  
The door at the end of the hallway shut and Liza jerked, whipping around. She heard the tap of heels down the hallway and inhaled sharply, eyes flicking to the clock about the door. 3:45am. The nurse’s round. She turned back to the bed, but Hannibal was gone, either vanished into the air or shrunk down to his normal size once more she didn’t know. She took a deep breath, pulling the cloak out again. Time was wasting. She had a decision to make and she had to make it now.

_Am I a bad person?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to make my political opinions so drastically clear, but...here they are lol. Vote Blue.


	3. Fruits of Labour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In, and now, out; Liza's escape from the compound and the results of her conversation with Hannibal.

“Have you ever hunted a dragon?”

“Why? Are there any out there you don’t like?”

Dojo hesitated, elbow-deep in Liza’s backpack. He found a snack he’d picked up at their pit-stop on the other side of the country and opened the bag slowly, before shrugging.

“One or two,” he admitted, burying his face in the packet and chewing through the contents noisily. “But then again, most dragons are skeezes. Not much we can do if we don’t end up taken in by some Temple. Modern world doesn’t seem to suit us very much.”

“You’re not doing too bad.”

“Neither are you. Are Monster Hunters tax exempt?”

Bishop smirked slightly, looking back in the direction of the compound. It had been almost two hours since Liza had left, and the sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon. In ten minutes, he was going to go in after her, or at least, get as far as he could. He didn’t intend to get shot trying to break _in_ , but if he could get arrested and detained on the premises, then he could break _out_ and go find her.

“So. You and Liza.”

He frowned and looked back down at the little green dragon, who wiped crumbs away from his mouth.

“…What about her?”

“Well, you two. Got a bit of a…history, don’t you?”

“No.” He frowned and looked back towards the compound. “Well. Yes. She patches me up when I get torn apart. I always thought it was a rather straight-forward concept.”

“It doesn’t seem straight-forward to me.”

“…I don’t like your tone, lizard.”

“No one ever does. I try not to let it get to me.” Bishop ignored him as he licked the crumps from his snack off of his hands, crumpling up the packet and putting it back in the bag. “I’m just saying. She asked _you_ to come along with her, no one else.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m the getaway vehicle, you’ve got nothing on me.”

“If we had a car, it wouldn’t talk.”

“It would also take three days for it to get you back to China.”

He smirked slightly, tilting his head in such a way so the little creature couldn’t see it. He would rather die than confess it out loud, but he did have a point. Liza and he had become…close. Far closer than a doctor and patient should ever be.

And the worst part?

He wouldn’t change it for the world.

He jerked slightly as his pocket buzzed. He pulled the little device from it and frowned, holding the screen up to the light to see it better. Bishop had no need of phones, so when Liza had presented him with this little gadget for the purpose of this task, he had visibly blanked. He had no idea which button did what, and apparently all he had to do to make it do…stuff, was run his finger along the screen. One touch, and he could ruin it all.

“…It _is_ the green one, right?”

“…YES!”

He tutted and swiped his finger along the glass slowly, pressing the phone to his ear. He frowned.

“Liza?”

“East side of the building, get there now!”

He frowned and stood up immediately, picking up her bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Window?”

“No, I’m up on the roof. Just fly in, I’ll jump, and do it NOW.”

The phone cut off and Bishop frowned, turning to Dojo.

“We-”

“I heard, you hit speakerphone!” He was already increasing in size, bracing his palms against the ground. Bishop jumped onto his back and gripped his scales tightly as they launched into the air, speeding towards the compound. There was a commotion down below, guards running back and forth and shouting at each other. Bishop grimaced, leaning over to search for that familiar tuft of blond hair.

“Down there.”

Dojo was already diving, both of them ignoring the shouts of warning from the guards who noticed them. Liza was indeed on the roof, running towards the edge, eyes on the sky; Dojo dipped low as the guards opened fire with those pathetic little guns, embracing their country’s long standing ideal of _shoot first, ask later._ Dojo’s expression was one of pure focus, speeding towards the rooftop; Liza vaulted to the edge and leapt, Bishop holding out his arms. She collided with his chest and he immediately pushed her down, pinning her against his scales to combat the sudden angle they were at as Dojo shot off, altitude the only thing on his mind.

“Hang on!”

Both passengers grunted in pain as the pressure change washed over them, making their ears burst and their spines scream. It lasted far too long for comfort, but suddenly Dojo was flying straight again, high above the clouds and far away from the compound. Bishop’s grip on Liza steadily eased, and his back slowly straightened as he sat up, his spine screaming in protest. He let out a hiss from between his teeth and shivered, patting the scales underneath him slowly.

“You okay?” he called over the wind, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

“Just fine, I love being shot at!” came the reply, a shudder moving down the scales at the same time. “…Yes. Yes, I’m fine. Have you got Liza!?”

“Yeah-!”

He paused and looked down, frowning. She was laying on her side, her hands hidden from sight. Bishop grimaced, then gripped her shoulders and pulled her around.

“…Liza.”

She was grimacing in pain, shaking slightly as she pressed both hands to an obvious bullet wound on her abdomen. Bishop’s lip twitched in a snarl and he gripped her shoulders and sat her up, hands immediately tearing the shirt open above the wound. She shivered, her teeth chattering.

“It’s okay-”

“If it’s still open, it’s not okay.”

She nodded, taking a deep, calming breath. She glanced at him, her skin grey, and she swallowed.

“…Just d-do it quickly, now!”

He hesitated, but then nodded. It was the kind of thing he’d done a thousand times before, but each of those times, he’d performed it on himself, not on someone else. He let out a breath, then hurriedly gripped her chin, bundling the bloody cloth into her mouth. She closed her eyes, but bit down hard as he shifted her, digging his finger into the wound. She tensed and began to convulse, but he pressed on, digging the bullet out and flicking it over the edge, letting it tumble to the ground. He was vaguely aware of Dojo asking questions over the wind, his voice tinged with panic, but only one thing was on his mind now.

_Liza._

He pulled the cloth from her mouth and propped her up, taking her gauntlet-clad hand and pressing it to the wound. She was panting, her mouth and chin stained crimson from the cloth, but already the wound was beginning to heal, the flesh building itself from the inside-out. Within a minute, it looked like it was weeks old, and by the time Dojo had found a clearing in the mountains to land in, there wasn’t even a scar.

Asclepius…it was a miracle worker.

They suddenly found themselves against the cool rock of the mountainside as Dojo shrunk down, slithering out from underneath them as Liza slumped to the side, breathing heavily. Her clothes were blood-soaked and torn, and she was exhausted from both shock and agony, but there was no longer any immediate threat.

“…L-Liza? What happened?”

Bishop frowned and helped her sit up, digging her water bottle out of her bag and holding it out to her. She slowly bit into the middle finger of her glove and tugged it off, letting it drop to the ground beside her. Bishop took a deep breath.

“Drink. Deeply.”

She nodded and took the bottle in her shaking hand, pulling the stopper out with her teeth before downing the bottle in one go. Bishop glanced at Dojo, who was shaking at the site of so much blood. He guessed that the little creature rarely had to deal with stuff like this; his world was looking after children, a scramble for power in the playpen of good and evil. He doubted he’d ever stepped foot in this world, the world of blood and power.

When was the last time he’d even seen a gun?

“…She’s fine,” he found himself saying slowly, his hand on Liza’s back as she drank. “A bullet clipped her as we escaped. Asclepius healed her up immediately, as per its job.”

Dojo let out a very audible sigh of relief as Liza lowered her bottle, wiping her lips slowly. Most of the blood came away with it, revealing the ashen skin underneath. But even then, colour was returning to her cheeks, and shine was returning to her eyes. In another ten minutes, she’d be back to normal.

But still.

“Liza.” He rested his hand firmly on her shoulder. She looked up at him, squinting slightly through lack of glasses. “…Did you do it?”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air, and she eventually took a deep breath. She dug around in her pocket and removed her phone, mercifully free of bullet holes, and hit the button on the side. The screen illuminated and she turned to show it to him; all over the screen were breaking news alerts, all reading the same thing.

“… _President Robson Passes Away After HGV Collision.”_

Bishop frowned, taking the phone from her. He scrolled through, reading the article slowly as Liza sat up properly, pushing her hair out of her face. The news was prompt, but then again…if his condition was so bad that they needed Liza, it had probably been waiting to print for hours already. He looked at her.

“…What happened?”

“…I was too late,” she muttered, still working on wiping the blood from her chin. “It took longer than I thought to get in, by the time I made it to his ward…the damage was too great. I can’t cure death.”

She breathed out as she felt Dojo slither up onto her shoulder, wrapping comfortingly around her neck in the manner he knew best. She patted him gently, then sighed and closed her eyes.

“It’s…fine,” she muttered. “I wasn’t even sure I _wanted_ to save him. He was never that good of a man, after all.” Her eyes flickered to Bishop. “I am sorry I wasted your time.”

“…Yeah…”

His eyes narrowed as she stood up, her legs shaking slightly. She gently removed Dojo from around her neck and let him slither to the ground, already growing in size.

“Let’s go,” she sighed, looking anywhere but his eyes. “…I’m exhausted and I need sugar of some kind. I can’t reverse bloodloss with just the gauntlet, and I’ve lost at least a pint and a half. I need to give myself a top up.”

“No pit-stops, I got it.” Dojo nodded, shifting down as low as he could. “We’ll be back home before the sun’s all the way up.”

“That’d be impressive.” She offered him a small smile, letting out a breath as she curled her fingers through his scales. She took a few moments to gather herself, and then tightened her grip. She braced her foot against his side –

\- and then Bishop wrapped his arm around her and boosted her up. She groaned and accepted his help gratefully, collapsing onto Dojo’s back as he clambered on behind her, the dragon taking flight as soon as they were settled. She found herself slumping against his chest, eyes barely open as they drifted through the clouds, flying away from the sunrise.

“…Liza.”

His voice was quiet, obviously made so that Dojo couldn’t hear them over the rush of the wind. His hand was on her waist, pressed against the bare skin where he’d torn her shirt, not digging in but not exactly giving her freedom to move.

“…What happened?” he asked, his voice firm but low. “I know when you’re lying, and you’re lying right now. We had a deal, Braus; we don’t lie to each other, no matter what. Tell me what happened.”

“…There’s nothing to tell,” she muttered, slowly looking back over her shoulder. He hadn’t realised she’d been wearing make-up when they’d left, but now he could see it; her mascara was smudged under her eyes, a proverbial mess, but somehow it made the blue of her eyes a lot more prominent. He let out a long breath. “…I hadn’t made up my mind, and then…I did.”

“You let him die.”

She nodded once, curtly, and he let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his hair. It was damp from a combination of their ascent through the clouds, and sweat which had accumulated from stress, making it stick up when his fingers trailed through it. He was silent for a few moments, and then nodded slowly, his grip on her waist loosening slightly.

“…Okay then,” he said, nodding. “…Okay. That’s all there is to it.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, looking down at the gauntlet which covered her hand. Her fingers curled tightly into her palm, the glow rearing up once more before fading again. She sighed. “I was foolish to attempt it. Asclepius has no place in this world where the corrupt and the wealthy can abuse it for their own purpose. It belongs back at the Temple, where I can use it for nothing but healing.” She sighed, closing her eyes. “Where I can use it for good.”

It must have been the rush of wind obscuring the sound, or something she had said which distracted Bishop enough for temporary deafness. All she knew was that her body tensed up but his remained calm, her fists clenched whilst his remained loose, and he gave no indication of reaction to the small voice in the night that it seemed only she could hear.

_“You tell yourself that, darlin’.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bishop finally got introduced to an iPhone, the world can carry on turning now.


	4. The Original Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liza and Bishop return to the temple, whereupon the weight of the night catches up to them. NSFW.

“…It’s not as good as the last one.”

Bishop looked around the Temple laboratory, frowning as he opened a book only to shut it again at the sight of numerous diagrams he didn’t have the patience to decipher. He walked away from the desk and back into the bedroom, drawing the curtains across the window; Dojo was true to his word and had returned them to the Temple grounds before the sun had risen, though the time zone changes certainly helped with that. The current time was roughly similar to when they left the US, almost like no time had passed at all.

Funny little thing, time.

He heard the shower turn off and glanced over his shoulder as Liza entered the room, wrapped in a towel. He raised an eyebrow, making her skin pinken immediately.

“…Hush,” she muttered, walking past him to pick up her robe. “I’m sure it’s not something you’re unused to.”

“It’s not that.” He turned to watch her pass. “…I just never realised what was under that lab coat. I never took you for the physical type.”

Her blush deepened and she turned away from him, slipping behind the screen in the corner of the room and throwing her towel over it. She pulled her robe over her shoulders, tying the sash at her waist. It was already beginning to bruise, something not even Asclepius could cure, and she knew by nightfall her waist would be impressively purple.

Just another thing to worry about.

“…I kick-box,” she eventually muttered, running a comb through her damp hair to release the tangles. “I have to. Getting caught up in a fight is all well and good until you can’t protect yourself. Ever since I moved here, I’ve been in many.” She stepped around the screen with a sigh. “…My fair share of Showdowns, and sometimes not even that.”

“I’d like to see you fight.”

“You’d be embarrassed.”

“Exactly. I feel like I need to smile more.”

She looked up at him, and the smallest of grins appeared on her lips. His own almost returned it, but then he walked over to the light switch and flicked it. The lamps turned off and he glanced back as she sat slowly on the edge of the bed, bowing her head as she did so. His fingers clenched slowly, but then he turned to face her fully.

“Tell me.”

“…It’s hard to find the right words.”

“Then don’t. Just give me some words.”

She looked up at him, fingers gently stroking the hem of her sleeve. She loved her nightgown; it had been a birthday present, a combined effort from the children she looked after. She had only known them a few weeks at that point, but nonetheless, they’d all chipped in to buy her something. It was at that moment she knew she was where she belonged, where she was meant to be, where she could do the most _good._

“…I didn’t just let him die,” she breathed, looking up at him. She watched his chest inflate as he took a long breath. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d been expecting this. “…Asclepius can revive cells, but it can also shut them down. He was dying anyway. So I pushed him over the edge.” She looked down at her hands. “…He didn’t deserve such a peaceful death, but in the end, that’s what it was. Peaceful.”

His fists clenched.

“…Why did you do that?”

 _Because I_ am _a bad person._

“…I didn’t have much time,” she breathed. “Not enough time to make a choice based on logic. But with the time I did have, I took a good, long look at myself…” she closed her eyes. “And I decided that it was the right thing to do.”

She felt the bed sink beside her and she looked up, expecting to see him sitting by her side. She didn’t expect him to be kneeling, his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes widened as he pushed her down against the sheets, bracing his elbows either side of her head. She became instantly and painfully aware of how close he was, how his chest pressed down against hers, how she didn’t know what to do with her hands. She just let them lay on the blanket, staring up at him.

“…Herr Koval-”

He hadn’t shaved in a few days. She was surprised that that was the first thing she thought when he pressed his mouth to hers, his hands holding the side of her neck. But it was; she felt his stubble scrape the skin around her mouth and chin, and then it was suddenly drowned out but the warmth she felt. She never even considered the idea that his mouth would be warm, but it was, enough so that she couldn’t feel the bruising on her ribs any more. He shifted slightly and coaxed a soft breath from her lips, the kiss breaking off for a moment as he touched her hair, still damp from her shower.

“How’s your waist?” he breathed slowly, his voice deep. She couldn’t help but feel that he didn’t really want an answer, that he just he needed to ask her something, _anything_. As if in confirmation, his hand was already there, stroking slowly against the fabric. She didn’t even flinch at his touch.

The next kiss was different. She breathed in deeply when his mouth pressed to hers, her hand moving up to his shoulder to curl in his shirt. He shifted again, sliding his arm under her waist as he pushed her further up the bed, pinning her body up against his. Her moan only made him tense slightly, the kiss quickly becoming more heated. She tasted warm, the exact way he expected her to taste, only he didn’t expect the hint of toothpaste when his tongue ran over her own. She shivered under his touch and it made his body react the only way it knew how, prompting a groan from his own throat. He bit her lip suddenly, drawing a sudden end to the kiss; she grunted as he pulled back, pushing her back against the cushions as he pulled his jacket off. She stared up at him through those pretty blue eyes, breath hitching in her chest as he pulled his shirt off over his head, revealing the many scars that criss-crossed over his body.

“…What?”

“…Nothing,” she murmured. “I just…never took you for the physical type.”

He smirked at her comment, kicking his boots away before leaning in to resume their kiss, quickly growing entangled in it. The seconds easily ticked away into minutes, passing without either of them knowing. The sun had risen but was hidden by the blinds, keeping the intruding light from ruining their intimacy, not a single beam falling across them as they moaned softly, responding to each other’s touches in louder tones the longer they went on.

Bishops hands moved downwards, and eventually he parted her robe, his mouth moving to her neck to kiss the skin there deeply. He felt the moan in Liza’s chest before it had even gotten to her throat, and it made his stomach twist with what he knew now was lust. He had an ache in his groin, one he knew there was only one way to relieve now, and he delighted in the torture he was causing himself by making himself wait.

Liza’s skin was soft, and he wanted every piece of it for himself. He knew he’d be sated in some way or another, be it by her hand or his own, but he didn’t have any assurance he’d get to explore his this way again. Her back arched as his mouth found her breast, his tongue circling her nipple slowly before latching on and sucking, hard. His body gave a blissful shudder at the sensation of her groan, the way her hands ran through his hair and tugged firmly. His thumb dug into her hip as he suckled, urging her body to wriggle and rub against his, only furthering his arousal. She was speaking now, her breath coming out in little gasps, perhaps asking something of him, but every syllable was in flushed and hurried German.

He broke away from her hardened bud and licked it slowly, eyes drinking in how red the skin had flushed from where his mouth had worked. He wanted to take in every centimetre of what his presence was doing to her, but the pain between his legs was begging him otherwise. He sat back and stared down at her as he unbuckled his belt, throwing it to the side. He freed himself from his trousers as she bit her lip, her skin flushed pink. He pushed her back down and kissed her again, marvelling at the difference. She wasn’t unsure now, not at all; she slid her arms around his neck and held him close, tugging the sash of her robe off completely before slipping her legs around his waist. He shivered at the breath of warmth he felt along his now-bare shaft, closing his eyes slowly. He didn’t even have to speak.

He gripped her shoulder and rolled her over, making her groan in bliss. He placed his chin on her shoulder and gripped her own with one hand, the other sliding around her waist. He felt her tense in anticipation, his breath hot in her ear before he ran his mouth over her neck. He didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but he could swear she was pressing herself back against him, rolling her hips as if in a silent beg. His own thighs clenched at the sensation, hand trailing down her stomach and over her naval.

He braced his knees against the mattress, but it didn’t take any effort whatsoever; he filled her up with a simple breath, finding no resistance. She groaned loudly and he found himself moaning into her neck, his hand on her hip. Her fingers was on his, and she bit into his palm gently to offset some of the overwhelming sensation. He grimaced at the feel of her teeth in his hand; he didn’t want to admit it, but it only made him harder, only made him more desperate to be with her.

His hips shifted and she moaned again, her breathing coming out in short, sharp bursts. He straightened out, pushing her down against the sheets as he began to rock his hips back and forth, the friction making him groan in bliss. He could feel her own hips rocking in sync with his, and it made him shudder to think that she was just as desperate for release as he was. His grip on her chin tightened and he pushed it around so her nose brushed his. He stared at her face, awkward as the angle was, but every inch was worth it. Her lips were parted, her skin flushed, her eyes barely open. It was the most beautiful he’d ever seen her, and he’d never even looked for beauty in her face before.

He’d been rather foolish, as it turned out.

He grunted, his lips closing around hers for a moment, the steady rock of their bodies picking up pace. The ache in his stomach was intensifying, and by the way she was clenching around him, he knew she was beginning to feel the same way. He broke off the kiss and buried his face back into her neck, his hand going to her chest. She moaned loudly as his thumb brushed over her hardened nipple, before his fingers gripped and kneaded the flesh in his palm. She never considered that part of her body to be anything akin to this level of sensitive, but it was like he’d set every cell in her body on fire; she was overwhelmed, her breath coming out short and hot. Her tongue was resting on her lower lip, coaxed outwards by the heat his mouth had brought on, and with each thrust his hips gave, she teetered closer and closer to the edge.

She jerked slightly as his hand abandoned her breast, sliding between their legs to cup her crotch tightly. Her body buckled, face burying into the pillow as he pulled back, getting onto his knees as he gripped her hips, raising them into the air. The angle changed, he slipped further and further inside of her, hitting a spot which made her jerk and convulse, fingers clenching into fists. It was almost cruel, the way he abandoned her, but it was exactly what she needed; she buckled and bit the pillow as a burst of heat ran through her entire body, replacing every single cell with pure pleasure. A sound came from the back of her throat, a sound she hadn’t heard before, and her body began to seize up. She heard him groan loudly, pulling away from her as quickly as he could; the sensation of his thick shaft suddenly sliding out of her made her whimper; she hurriedly sat up, not allowing the orgasm to take over her completely. Bishop had slumped back against the wall, legs parted; she didn’t need to be urged onward, immediately clambering between them.

He groaned her name as she did so, head lolling back as his hands went to her hair. It only took a few moments, the warmth of her mouth being more than enough; his hips bucked upwards and he came, hitting his high in a matter of seconds. He could feel Liza’s hands on his stomach, running over the scars and muscle as she took him in, still quivering from her own release. He let himself collapse against the bedsheets as she extracted herself from between his thighs, her mouth parting from his member with a soft _pop_. He couldn’t help but stare at those perfect lips, that perfect mouth, his chest rising and falling quickly.

He felt Liza sit back, wiping her chin as she did so. Despite his entire body begging him to slip into slumber, he forced himself to sit up, wrapping his arm around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder as he pulled her up the bed, yanking the covers back before collapsing with her form on his chest. He pulled the blankets up to their necks and closed his eyes, slumping against the mattress. Her breathing was steady against his side, and he found himself at ease for the first night in a thousand nights, his arm wrapped around her waist.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, his arm behind his head, the other wrapped lazily around her waist. He liked how she felt by his side, breathing slowly, her warm skin moving in the simplest, subtlest way against his own.

“…I have to admit,” she eventually murmured, a smile in her voice, “…I did not expect you to…do that.”

“Neither did I,” he replied immediately, closing his eyes. “…I’m glad I did.”

“So am I.”

She curled her fingers gently against his ribcage and closed her own eyes, shifting to get a little more comfortable. She’d never seen his body so relaxed, having become accustomed to the tense figure that came hand-in-hand with the injuries he always visited with. It was…nice, to know that he was indeed capable of it.

Nice to know he was human after all.

She had questions. Of course she did. She had always cared deeply about his well-being; she was his Doctor, and it was kind of mandatory that she took an interest. But she didn’t realise it had gotten to this point. She was so unused to feelings of love and lust, having spent most of her adult life buried in books and chest cavities, far too busy a woman for romance. This had…taken her by surprised. It was the only thing that had done so that she’d thoroughly enjoyed.

So many questions.

She settled on one.

“…Will you go back when you wake?” she murmured softly, her head on his collarbone. She didn’t need to elaborate; he knew exactly what she meant.

“Yes,” he mumbled, his voice deep. “I still have work to do.”

“…” She nodded, her hand sliding slowly across his chest. He wrapped his arm tightly around her as she pushed her face into his neck, taking a moment or so just to hold each other, but within moments he felt her form go limp with exhaustion, sleep taking her over far easier than it would him. He remained still for a few minutes, and then, when he was sure she was asleep, he shifted her to lay on her side, rolling over so his chest pressed against her back. His eyes went to the door handle, a faint outline in the dark of the room, and he let out a long breath, sliding his fingers through hers and holding onto them tightly.

She was lying. Even now, she was still not telling him something.

Something dark.

He could read it in her body, her face, her expressions and the way she wouldn’t look him in the eye when she spoke. It had almost…hurt him, to know that there was something so bad she couldn’t trust him with the truth. It had hit him suddenly how protective he felt of her, how the idea of something being so bad she felt she couldn’t confide in the only true friend she had, that it had all…come out. A bit embarrassing on his part, but he certainly didn’t regret it. No. He glanced down briefly, and then had to look away again to regain his composure. No, he certainly didn’t regret it. In fact, he should have done it sooner. There were so many times, so many perfect moments. Nepal. Romania. The Manticore. So many times where they could have, should have, but didn’t. Missed moments they’d never get back, _he’d_ never get back.

But they were there. They’d always been there.

So what was so bad that those moments couldn’t convince her to share what had happened?

He eventually closed his eyes, relaxing back against the pillow and allowing sleep to take him in. He could still feel Liza against his arm and chest, her breathing slow and even, soft little noises coming from between her lips. She was so soothing that he felt sleep claim him within seconds, dragging him down into the darkness. It may have been the exhaustion, may have been a speck of delirium after such a rush of physical and emotional outburst, or maybe he simply imagined it, but he thought, just as he passed away into the realm of unconsciousness, he could hear something in the dark of that tiny bedroom in the middle of nowhere.

A laugh.

A cold, cruel laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EY well done, you made it to the smut! :') So did Hannibal evidently, HE KNOWS WHEN YOU'RE BANGING, HUUURK. This is the last chapter, thank you guys so much for reading. Please leave kudos if you're into this shit, so I know if it's worth my time writing more. :) THANK YOU!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading, I wasn’t sure I was going to post this because of how dark it is for the subject matter; I try very hard to keep my content at the rating of the fandom it originates from. But the whole point of Liza was she was meant to bridge the gap between child-friendly and adult, so I ventured into that territory in this piece. 
> 
> Please leave kudos if you liked it! I love kudos. ;-;


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